"Deucalion and Pyrrha" by Giovanni Maria Bottala Two Poems about Stone, by Joseph S. Salemi The Society May 19, 2021 Beauty, Culture, Poetry 17 Comments . Isolde and the Men of Stone Who could believe, except on ancient trust? The stones grew pliant, yielding into shape When softer nature touched them; human forms Emerged, as marble figures half-begun. —Ovid, Metamorphoses, I, 400-406 Her mind a buzzing hive, Isolde walks On gaping earth. An excavator’s teeth Biting the loam-thick carpet of the ground Had trenched and torn out many hidden things. Eagerly she stoops to gather up The bones Deucalion flung in iron times To midwife men—her basket holds them all: Quartz flesh veined with feldspar, agate eyes, Sandstone hands, and for the myriad brain A lump of jasper swirled with twining dendrites. In clay Isolde finds one perfect piece Of variegated onyx, like a heart. These curios she keeps within her garden To set off moss and flowers; meanwhile weeds Have closed and knitted up the open wound. . . Demetrius, Maker of Gods, Recounts a Conversation with Saint Paul And you see and hear that this Paul by persuasion hath drawn away a great multitude, not only of Ephesus but almost all of Asia, saying: They are not gods which are made by hands. —Acts, 19:26 I said to him, for us Love is a god Fashioned from a block of pure peach marble Here in this small shop where stone flakes fly And the hiss of smoothing pumice whistles. So much divinity! Look about you, Paul— You may see them circling the boy Eros As if in pantheon, or on Mount Olympus: Aphrodite shaped in alabaster White as the churning sea-foam she rose from; Thoth in black obsidian, the master Of all hidden wisdom’s secret lore; Sundered Osiris carved in porphyry As multihued and varied as the rainbow; Artemis: ice-white spar with moonstone eyes Pale as her virgin crescent, and see here Apollo in finest Parian, as though Born to no other flesh, and that flesh breathing The coldest air of timelessness. Take note Of grape-stained Bacchus, smiling though unconscious, Who stares past stiff, granitic Priapus While Mithra rides the blood-red jasper bull. Still, the Jew Paul would not have it so, Laughed at what he called idolatry And spoke of an altar to THE UNKNOWN GOD. I asked: An altar of what precious stone? . . Joseph S. Salemi has published five books of poetry, and his poems, translations and scholarly articles have appeared in over one hundred publications world-wide. He is the editor of the literary magazine Trinacria and writes for Expansive Poetry On-line. He teaches in the Department of Humanities at New York University and in the Department of Classical Languages at Hunter College. NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 17 Responses Margaret Coats May 19, 2021 A curious collector of fragments, and a connoisseur ready to take an order and get down to the business of making whatever the customer wants. As an art appreciator, I like their conceits. But Demetrius may have trouble doing something unhewn. Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant May 19, 2021 Joe S., all I can say is these vibrant and mesmerizing poems inspire me to educate myself further. At this stage in my literary learnings and leanings, I cannot give you a measured and erudite comment, but, for what it’s worth, I’ll say this – lines such as this ignite my heart and ear: “the hiss of smoothing pumice whistles”, “Of grape-stained Bacchus, smiling though unconscious”, “Artemis: ice-white spar with moonstone eyes/Pale as her virgin crescent”. This is the linguistic prowess I aspire to. Thank you for the inspiration. Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 19, 2021 Thanks, Susan. It’s funny, but both those poems were written back in the 1970s, and have sat in my old notebook all that time. Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant May 19, 2021 I’m impressed – your comment serves to prove that today’s education sucks. I only wish I had been born in an era that revered the classics. Instead, my literary youth was spent mimicking the mimsy borogoves in dance… it’s a wonder I can string together two sentences let alone write a poem. I thank poets like you for restoring my faith. Paul Freeman May 20, 2021 Apart from the obvious ancient gods, I’m somewhat deity-challenged. That said, I found that ‘Men of Stone’ had a strangely comforting ‘Frankenstein’ feel to it (if that makes sense), which made the poem most thought-provoking. Reply Sally Cook May 20, 2021 Dear Joe – I love the conceits of connecting a type of stone to the deity in quesrt5ion.Like so many other poets, many were not introduced to the classics, or to the meanings of stones. Still, I have learned some of them; watching dull grey pebbles being polished for jewelry and seeing colors emerge has been an eye-opener; looking into the sparkling tones inside geodes has been another. Sometimes I am able to connect the quality of a stone to what I’ve put into a poem. Your poems are highly sophisticated and filled with knowledge I wish I had. Thanks for sharing them with the rest of us! Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 20, 2021 Dear Sally — As I recall, I wrote those two poems at a time when I was in the habit of collecting stones at various excavation sites. after the workers had gone home for the day. It’s amazing what kind of beautiful rocks are turned up by a high-powered steam shovel digging a six-foot trench. But really, the poems are just pure fictive artifacts. I didn’t do any research to connect a particular stone to a specific deity — I just related what I knew about each ancient god to the characteristics that I noticed in the stones I had collected. It’s easy to think of Aphrodite as alabaster, and Priapus as granite. Reply paul buchheit May 20, 2021 Joseph, I felt I was traveling back to antiquity. Very nice! Reply C.B. Anderson May 20, 2021 You had me on my heels, Joe. These poems were not what one might call straightforward narratives by any means, and only after a third reading did I begin to see shapes forming in my mind’s eye. I can well understand why your subsequent work took different directions — one can dwell in obscurity only for so long. Between a rock and a hard place, nothing but extreme fluidity will survive for long. Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 20, 2021 Kip, I tried not to be obscure. At the time (the 1970s) I was escaping from the clutches of free-verse insanity, and I wanted to produce verse that was filled with rational meaning. I hoped that the structure of the Deucalion and Pyrrha myth would serve as a framework to describe a young girl collecting rocks. The other poem about Demetrius is taken straight from the account in Acts, about St. Paul’s problems in Ephesus. He did have trouble with an artisan named Demetrius. Reply Julian D. Woodruff May 21, 2021 I find, Prof. Salemi, that with respect to your poems my ignorance of Greek mythology leaves me at the foot of a steep path marked “Gradus ad Parnassum.” I will say this: the absence of end rhyme makes the switching back and forth between iambic and trochaic modes, and also the occasional departure from the 5-foot line, seem more natural than it might otherwise. I’d love to hear you read these. Reply Margaret Coats May 21, 2021 This paraphrase from anthropology of religion perhaps precedes the search for what stone represents what deity. “Stone shows man something that transcends precarious humanity. Its strength, its motionlessness, its size and its strange outlines are none of them human; they indicate the presence of something that fascinates, terrifies, attracts, and threatens all at once. In its grandeur, its hardness, its shape and color, man is faced with a reality and a force that belong to some world other than the profane world of which he is a part. A rock or pebble becomes an object of devotion because it represents something and comes from somewhere. It has sacred value as an instrument to ensure possession of what it represents, or to get to the place where it came from. The role of sacred stones is as magical as it is religious.” This seems to have some bearing on what both Isolde and Demetrius are doing and thinking. Joseph has moved Saint Paul’s Demetrius beyond silversmithing in honor of Diana, to a whole world of artistry where any man can strive to possess whatever god fascinates, terrifies, attracts, and threatens him. We don’t need to know mythology or believe in it, to take part in this human search for the sacred. I myself cherish some stones from Sempringham in England. One of them came from a footpath through a field near the rarely used parish church in this tiny, remote village. It didn’t come from the ground easily. As I realized later, whatever remains of the medieval motherhouse of the Gilbertines, the only religious order founded in England, must lie unexcavated beneath hard-packed earth in that empty field. Reply Joseph S. Salemi May 21, 2021 Yes, I did use my poetic license to change the occupation of Demetrius of Ephesus from “silversmith” to “sculptor of gods.” It worked better poetically, particularly in light of the quotation from Acts, and from St. Paul’s famous allusion to the altar of “The Unknown God.” As for the “Isolde” piece, that was more personal, and rooted in my own experiences while collecting stones. I fully understand Margaret’s attachment to the stones she found in Sempringham. In 1969, on my first visit to Italy, I walked along the Appia Antica road outside of Rome. I stopped at a ruined medieval tower, and entered. What was left of the floor was small heavy squares of dark green stone, worn smooth by the movement of centuries of human feet. I picked up two of them, and have kept them ever since. Reply C.B. Anderson May 22, 2021 As Bob Dylan wrote, Everybody must get stoned. Reply Daniel Kemper May 26, 2021 Bwahahaha! Good one, CB! Reply David Bellemare Gosselin May 23, 2021 Very nice. Great themes and great thematic development, with fine language. I really liked the Demetrius piece, very original and conceptually rich. Reply Daniel Kemper May 26, 2021 I like the recast of Demetrius of Ephesus from “silversmith” to “sculptor of gods.” It’s smooth and functional way to say it, not strictly changed. I enjoyed the ironic, “Some guys just don’t get it,” ending. When you mentioned escaping free verse, I couldn’t help but immediately pair those idols with free verse. And Paul by extension a poet trying to explain the word… Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. 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